Shot Through The Heart
by NextCompanion
Summary: "Shot through the heart, and you're to blame. You give love a bad name." Dean and Buffy are just out on a normal hunt when things start to go wrong. Dean/Buffy. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

They had been keeping an eye on this demon for a few days now, and their determination had finally paid off. He had led them right to the nest, an old abandoned warehouse about ten miles out of town.

"What is it about monsters that make them like warehouses so much?" Buffy said, climbing out of the Impala. "I mean, you can almost guarantee that if there's a warehouse, there's something shady going down inside."

"Makes you wonder if instead of looking for a case, we should simply look for empty warehouses," Dean grinned at her, opening the back of the car.

"Wouldn't be a half bad idea," Buffy said, crossing her arms and shivering.

"I told you you should have dressed warmer," Dean said, already shrugging off his jacket.

Buffy smile impishly. "I like your clothes better," she said. "They smell much nicer than mine." Dean offered Buffy a shotgun as she pulled on his jacket.

"No thanks," she wrinkled her nose slightly. As much as Dean tried to convince her, Buffy still didn't like using guns to do her fighting. Too easy to run out of ammo. Instead, she hefted the battle ax from the back of the trunk.

"Ready?" she said, watching Dean finish grabbing his weapons.

Dean shut the trunk. "I just love it when you are raring to go. What was it that Faith said about slaying? Oh yeah, that it makes you guys-"

"Shut it," Buffy said, punching him on the arm. Hard. "You take front, I'll take back?"

Dean shrugged. "Sounds like a good plan to me. Easy gank and go. Maybe we'll even have time for burgers on the way back!"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Promise to scream like a girl if you need help. I want to watch." She kissed his cheek and took off running toward the back of the building.

Dean loaded the shotgun and crept inside the warehouse. There weren't supposed to be too many demons here, but it was better to be on his guard.

The hallway was poorly lit, and Dean wondered if that was another qualification of monster hang-outs. They all had to have lots of shadowy corners where one could creep and lurk. Dean heard footsteps, and he ducked closer to the wall. A young girl with a tear stained face rounded the corner and screamed when she saw Dean.

"I'm guessing you would be the virgin sacrifice," Dean said, standing aside. "Exit's that way." The girl took off running in the direction Dean pointed. That's one of the things Dean liked most about Buffy; she always took care of the little people first. She must have already found the nest if she was freeing the virgin.

He picked up his pace, keeping his gun high. If Buffy was in the nest, there would be escapees coming down this way soon. Sure enough, Dean saw two demons heading right for him. He fired off two quick shots and they dropped like flies. He continued sweeping the area when he heard a sound he wasn't expecting.

Gunshots. Two of them. He knew Buffy hadn't taken a gun, which meant- His thought was cut off by another gunshot. He started running.

A final gunshot sounded just as he rounded the corner to the center of the warehouse. Buffy stood over a couple dead demons, pistol in her hand. Her ax was sticking out of the neck of one of the demons, and Dean could see a gunshot straight through its head.

"Stupid demon," Buffy tried to laugh, but it sounded more like she was choking. "Wasn't expecting the stupid thing to have a gun." It was only when she turned around that Dean saw the two bullet holes in her stomach. Her hands floated to her stomach, and Dean's mind stopped completely.

"It's okay," Dean said and his voiced cracked slightly. "You're going to be okay."

"Guess I'll have to trust you on that one," Buffy said with a small smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean had seen a lot of blood in his life, but no blood had ever scared him like the blood that was now dripping between Buffy's fingers. He didn't think he had ever seen anyone bleed this quickly. Maybe it was a Slayer thing. Maybe her blood worked differently than other people's.

Or maybe he just wasn't moving fast enough. Time seemed to be in slow motion, and as quickly as he moved, Dean didn't know if he had enough time.

"Woah," he said, rushing over to catch her as her knees gave out. "What are you doing fainting on me? This was not part of the plan."

Buffy grimaced. "We may have to change the plan slightly. There have been a few complications."

"Not today," Dean said while he stretched Buffy out on the ground. "We're going to clean this up and still have time for burgers." Trying to move her as little as possible, he slid his jacket off from around her arms. He folded it and stuck it under her hands.

"Put pressure on this," he said and then started tearing long strips from the bottom of his shirt.

"This is what I get for not bringing my own jacket," she complained. "Now I just feel terrible for getting blood all over yours."

Dean began wrapping the strips around Buffy's waist, taking care to move her as little as possible. "If that's what you feel worst about at this moment," he said, "And not the holes in your stomach, I would say you're doing pretty well under the circumstances."

He finished wrapping the strips and prepared to tie them. "Ready?" he said, looking down at her.

She nodded, closing her eyes. He tightened the knot and she screamed. Dean shut his eyes tightly so he didn't see her face.

She took a few deep breaths. "Okay," she said after a few moments. "I'm still raring to go."

"Come on, you, " he said, scooping her up. "I'm getting you out of here. It's all going to be okay. I've got this taken care of."

"You remembered how to fix bullet wounds?"

Dean rolled his eyes as her carefully walked toward the exit. "You know, it's your own fault if your last words end up being some stupid quip."

"I always said I was going down swinging." They were both quiet for a few moments.

"Dean," she said, and her voice had lost some of its bravado. "I don't want to die again."

"Of course not," he said. "Forever fields of gold and plucking harps? Naw, that's not really our style."

He thought he felt her laugh against his chest. "No, that's not it."

"Is it because you think you're going somewhere else? Because let me tell you, I'm pretty sure that if anyone gets a free pass through the pearly gates, it's the Slayer."

Her head shook slightly. "No. I don't care where I'm going after this."

"Then what?"

"I don't want to leave. I just want to be here. With you."

"It's okay," he said after a moment. "The car is just outside and there is a hospital in the next town. Not even a long drive. You're going to be fine."

He kicked the front door open, still cradling Buffy in his arms. But his stomach dropped when he saw the Impala: her hood was propped open, and parts were scattered across the lawn.

"Damn," Dean said. "Damn damn damn damn DAMN!"

"What?" Buffy wiggled and Dean could hear her sharp intake of breath. He wasn't sure whether it was from the movement or from the sight of the Impala.

"Just sit right here, okay Buffy?" Dean walked down the steps and set her down next to the Impala. He forced himself to look down at her hands, clenched tightly against her stomach. Her hands were completely red.

"Not even that bad," he managed to choke out. "Hey, a measly bullet can't take my girl out, right?"

"No," Buffy said, her voice nearly inaudible, "but these two might be enough."

Dean didn't reply.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey," Buffy said a few moments later, her hand limply reaching up to point at Dean. "I have something to tell you."

Dean looked up from the Impala's engine he had been desperately trying to put back together. He walked over to Buffy and grabbed her hand that had been pointing to him.

"You said.." Buffy swallowed, trying to get the words to come out of her mouth correctly. "You said it… And I didn't say it back."

Dean dropped her hand like it was on fire and stepped away from her. "And you sure as hell aren't saying it to me now. There will be time for that later."

"Dean, listen…"Buffy tried to reach back out to him, but he moved further away.

"No." he said. "I'm not hearing it. I don't want your words now, here, when you think you're gone and you think you're dying. I want to hear it later when we are laughing at stupid late night television. I want to hear it when we are picking Dawn up from school together. I want to hear it when you think Sammy isn't listening. I want to hear it first thing when you wake up in the morning. But I do not want to hear it now."

Buffy groaned as Dean walked back to the front of the Impala. "I've dated two vampires, I deal with demons every day, and I fight with old stuffy Englishmen on a regular basis, but YOU, Dean Winchester, are the most stubborn man I have ever met."

Dean didn't move from the front of the car. He was almost there. He could do this.

"Fine." Buffy said. "All of this is on your head then."

Gritting her teeth, she used her legs to push her back up the side of the Impala until she was standing. Using one hand to steady herself, she inched to the front of the car, leaving bloody handprints all along its side. Dean saw her coming around the edge of the Impala just in time to run around and catch her from falling.

"Buffy," he said, desperation creeping into his voice. "You need to stay still. You need to stay with me."

Buffy reached her hand up to grab his chin. "Then listen." she said angrily.

"I haven't said it to anyone in a long time. I haven't said it to Giles. I haven't said it to Willow. I haven't even said it to Dawn. So when I say that I am a little out of practice, I'm not lying. But when I say it to you, I want you to know how much I mean it." Her grip on his chin loosened, and she moved her hand to his cheek. Her thumb moved gently back and forth along his cheekbone, and Dean knew he was crying now.

"Please don't," he whispered. "Please don't say it."

"Fine," Buffy said. "But I want you to know that I regret not saying it. I should have said it back. I wanted to say it back."

Buffy's hand was sticky on Dean's face, but he didn't move it. There was too much to lose in this moment. Everything was happening way too fast.

He knew that he couldn't fix the car. He had known the moment he had left the house that there was no way out of this. But he couldn't just let her go. He couldn't just let her die without trying every stupid little chance he had.

"Please," he said, dropping his forehead to touch hers. "Tell me what to do. I need to stop this from happening."

"It's a little late now," Buffy murmured.

Dean closed his eyes tightly, praying for someway, anyway. Then he glanced up, and took one final look around. There. That was it. A shot in the dark, but it was their last shot.

"Just hold on, Buff," he said, picking her up gingerly. "Stay with me just a little longer."

Buffy didn't reply.


End file.
